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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865504">First Impression</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultradiplr/pseuds/Ultradiplr'>Ultradiplr</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Mention of Death, Regret, Triggers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:02:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultradiplr/pseuds/Ultradiplr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>siebren de Kuiper makes a first impression on the new night guard and its not his best.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>First Impression</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Haven't written in a very long time, please go easy on me, thought I'd mill about how I think Uahi and Sigma first met, don't know if I'll turn this into a full fic yet. Mostly an excuse to write inside Sigma's head.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sigma sat alone in his room, well his lab, well not entirely a lab. It was a studio apartment as well, lab and apartment, not much different from when he was….. It was his home inside of this building inside of the ground. Well partially in the… it wasn’t important. What was important was that he was mostly alone, doing work, and counting down the seconds until the next guard came to watch him. There were endless shifts of guards. Talon Guards. Here to keep him safe. Keep his research safe really. Whether they actually cared about his person however he’d never know or care particularly. They watched, behind a mask similar to his experimental one, with tightly layered kevlar and metal suits holding loaded guns, treating him neither coldly or warmly, regarding him like a job. And he was. He was not their company, not a friend to converse with or a stranger to regard warmly as even a coworker, he was simply him. Subject Sigma. A job.</p>
<p>He didn’t care really, the people from… before…. Treated him like a job as well. No… no they didn’t. They treated him like an experiment. Like a thing to be observed. A thing to be tested. To be strapped down and used and….. No, he can’t get into it, not now, not while he’s working tonight. Or else it’d be another lost night of spiraling. These people here, the guards, at least they weren’t watching him for scientific research, weren’t strapping him down and forcing that melody into his room, weren’t keeping him confined and broken. These guards were just… here, with him, casually. This was their job. At least he could be okay with that.</p>
<p>“H453, for shift change.” A voice cut through the silence of the room and the rambling in his brain, he looked at the wall at a digital clock, strange was it off-</p>
<p>“H453 you’re five minutes early.” Sigma turned to look at the area besides his door to his lab.</p>
<p>A small glass encased room within the room, very small, almost like an old gate attendant box, with a control panel within it. The guard sat on a stool looking tired from his posture, and the new one sent to relieve him for the night stood in the booth’s own doorway, separate from the lab’s real one.</p>
<p>“Are you complaining?” The one standing asked.</p>
<p>“Nope.” Said the one sitting as they stood and sidestepped the new guard, “He’s all yours.” </p>
<p>Sigma turned away then, pulling his attention back to his research, or at least back to his mind where he could think for a moment. H453, that was new, what happened to O657? Usually O657 was here after J223, and when O657 wasn’t here T784 was. Was there new scheduling? He’d been told there were new staff earlier this week but he’d assumed it was for the technical team, and not the guard. What on earth happened to O657? He quite liked them, when they fell asleep they didn’t snore. And when they were awake they’d hum tunes. And there was that one time they warned him about instruments about to fall off a table and he thought that was rather nice. Who was this new person who-</p>
<p>“Good Morning” A voice, a clear voice, not spat out from the speakers of a mask, asked him from the box, and he jumped a little.</p>
<p>He looked back at them, or rather her, firstly surprised at being addressed so directly, and again at the disregard at protocol as he saw clearly her face, she had taken her Talon issued headgear off. She was mature, or at least looked to be, pronounced grey hairs filling her black tied back bun of hair. She looked tired, which was fair considering the time… the time! He looked at her and back at the clock, god, MIDNIGHT. A hand rose to his face and pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes, he’d been working for a solid twelve hours since his last break, and hadn’t eaten in just as long. He sighed and looked back at her, giving her a raised brow, before staunchly ignoring her greeting and floating over to a kitchen of sorts in this cavernous room. “Kitchen” being a generous term for it, it was a table with an electric teapot used to make hot water on it, a few boxes of various teas, and a handful of instant foods made with adding hot water. He was allowed to make his own food, though the pickings were slim, not a fresh piece of fruit, vegetable or meat in sight, processed and packaged meals were his whole life, though he couldn’t complain really, better than the tube stuff… much better. </p>
<p>“Or you can just ignore me.” He heard her mumble rather loudly, obviously meaning for him to hear.</p>
<p>He made a noise to acknowledge that he heard her, opening up a bowl of instant noodles, and pouring in hot water and flavoring.</p>
<p>“Instant noodles, I had the same dinner.” He heard her speak, again, as he watched the noodles cook in front of him, “You’d think they’d splurge a little more on at least name brands.” she attempted to joke.</p>
<p>Truth be told, he was surprised at her attempts to be somewhat friendly, more than the last few, though he did remember some of them being friendly… before…. Before a large hiring of new guards…. New guards….. Every few months there were always new people, all more quiet than the last. He cut his thought off early from that, not wanting to say to himself why that was, best to move on from that. Sacrifices could reasonably be made in the name of science after all…</p>
<p>“You always this quiet or should I be alarmed?” She asked casually, but the tone of annoyance was not lost on him.</p>
<p>“I am tired.” He answered without turning toward her, fixated on the bubbles rising between the instant noodles breaking up, though he was afraid it came off more intense then he meant for it to be, considering he heard it echoing in the room, his voice louder than he realized.</p>
<p>He heard her scoff and then the squeak of the stool as she settled more back, “Sorry, i’ll be quiet.” she said, and though she sounded sincere, no doubt she was a bit…. Annoyed.</p>
<p>He frowned to himself, squeezing his lips into a thin line and wearing an intense expression as he mixed the now softened noodles around. He disliked how this first impression went, how awkward it must be for her to be stuck in a room with a giant floating man who refuses to talk to you. Though that wasn’t his fault, was it? She should have known he wasn’t the “talkative” type...  well he used to be…. He used to be a lot of things…. But he wasn’t anymore was he? He shook his head as memories of summits and meetings and lunches began to flood his mind, he disliked thinking of before in such personal detail, in ways where he can feel like he was there, because sometimes it feels like he is….. And that scared him.</p>
<p>“You are fine, I am just tired, I have been up all day.” He says softly, noting the lack of echo, good, he’s at an acceptable volume, “Though I would think you know that.” He said, trying to make light of the situation as he picked up the warm bowl in his hands and floated back to his work table.</p>
<p>“Something like that, the briefing for this station is pretty long.” she said plainly, it seems he’d have to do better if she was going back to her previous tone.</p>
<p>“I would not be surprised, it seems they send a new guard here every other week.” He sat above his work station, comfortable lounging as he picked and ate his food slowly, hunger not overshadowing hard set eating habits.</p>
<p>“Considering the casualties, I wouldn’t be surprised, they’re down to pulling veterans.” She yawned with a stretch, the metal, plastic and kevlar scraping together, much too loud for his liking, even above his slurping.</p>
<p>The word casualties hung in the air, although she said it so nonchalantly, it stuck to the inside of his skull. He disliked the word greatly, murders would be more fitting a small voice in the back of his head would whisper, bodies another would say, fools yet another would say, roadblocks, the price of success, the price of science, the price of humanity…. Before he knew it he was staring down at an empty bowl, completely empty, no soup no noodles, he blinked and then he felt a splash of hot to warm water splash his face as his bowl was suddenly full again. He yelped as he got drenched with his own floating meal and suddenly touched the ground, standing tall on his own two feet as he trudged over to the meager sink and dumped his food in it, frustrated and upset.</p>
<p>“Get out, I will be going to bed.” he said harshly, his echoing voice barely puncturing his own racing thoughts, already stomping to his bed within the same room.</p>
<p>He stood beside his bed, focusing on the object, grounding himself as he touched the soft fabric to make like he was getting in. Some part of him noticed the sound of the shifting of her suit gear as she got up and the sound of the guard box’s door opening and shutting. He got into bed and listened to the murmurings subsiding as he stared at the wall, the lights shut off about thirty minutes later, reasoned that him not moving was a sign of sleep while in reality he just focused on a small crack in the wall. Minuscule really, looks more like a dent, a chip in the paint even. Bigger than it had been during his first few weeks, a month ago he had focused hard on the crack and it had grown. The show of strength had scared him greatly and he had not attempted it again. But it stayed here, this crack, reminding him of how powerful he had become. More permanent than any guard, more permanent than the countless others he must have hurt, even more permanent than the fleeting memories and achievements he had made before… before he became this.</p>
<p>He blinked, one, twice, three times, slower and slower, and before long he drifted to sleep, his dreams filled with space and floating space and all theoretical lines and vectors and math unknowable and incomprehensible.</p>
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